


A Bit Misplaced

by VoluntaryExile



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Avery’s son is an ass, Bad Hufflepuff, Bad Slytherins, Coward Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy has competition, Drug Addiction, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor/Hufflepuff, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Common Room, Muggleborn Slytherin, Not a lot of neutral Slytherins lol, Philip Avery needs a hug but sure as hell doesn’t deserve one, Pureblooded bigotry, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw needs a hug, Slytherin, Slytherin/Ravenclaw, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, black sheep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:33:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoluntaryExile/pseuds/VoluntaryExile
Summary: Avery, the Death Eater, has a seventh year Hufflepuff son named Philip.Timothy Lawrence is the first muggleborn Slytherin in a very long time, about to graduate after seven rough years.For all the wisdom in Ravenclaw, Lucy Ashmore is still failing her fifth year.And in Gryffindor, Sophie Roper is shy, introverted and anonymous next to her fellow sixth years Harry, Ron and Hermione.They may seem like background characters in the story about the boy who lived, but during the last year of normalcy before the war, they make critical choices about themselves and each other - because everyone is a main character in their own life.





	1. Liar (It Takes One To Know One)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, and thank you for choosing to read this!
> 
> To clear up confusion from the get-go, this is NOT about any main characters. They certainly show up at certain points, especially since Sophie Roper is in the Golden Trio’s year, the Ravenclaw OC (Lucy Ashmore) is in Luna’s year, and who would torment a muggleborn Slytherin other than the ferret himself (at least at some point)? 
> 
> I don’t want to spoil too much of anything else, but the point is pretty simple: The life of background characters during Harry and the trios’ sixth year. I don’t know if disclaimers are still required these days, but here goes: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANYTHING ELSE RELATED TO J.K. ROWLING’S INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY.
> 
> As all chapter names are borrowed from the titles from the songs that inspired them, I guess that I should also clarify that I do not own any of them either, sadly. The first chapter was inspired by a song made (and owned) by Taking Back Sunday.

The leaves outside were all brown at this point, and on recent mornings they were also glimmering with frost. As autumn was turning into winter, Lucy Ashmore’s grades were dying at the same alarming rate as the plants outside. 

She glanced at a piece of parchment, neatly spread over a pile of unopened books, and made a choice hastily while folding the letter and putting it in her pocket. Most of her dormmates were asleep, and even if they hadn’t been, none of them would care much. The distance she had built up between herself and them wasn’t exactly a new deal, and the only one who talked to her occasionally was Luna, but the older the girls had gotten, the more difficult Luna’s own life had gotten. Besides, since befriending Potter and his friends, she had other people to worry about rather than a girl who never spoke more than two words to her - it was only logical, Lucy concluded. 

As Lucy snuck out of the fifth year Ravenclaw girls’ dorm, she grabbed a bag that clinked suspiciosly. No one said anything, as predicted, and she headed out of the blue and bronze common room without detection. She had to tread carefully through the castle, careful not to make any noise. A medieval castle wasn’t very absorbent to sound, and a few tapestries here or there didn’t really help much.

Having done this for a while now, Lucy knew how to avoid the prefects and teachers out on rounds - or so she thought. Rapid footsteps were suddenly headed for Ravenclaw tower, and she had to think fast. Normally, she sought solitude in the North Tower, but given the direction of those footsteps, she bolted down a different corridor and decided on a different tower for the night.

The Astronomy tower was normally more of a makeout spot, but on a Sunday night it was less likely to be occupied by hormonal teenagers. It would do for a night of numbness, Lucy reasoned. She had been visibly shaky during dinner and if she didn’t do anything about it, there would be questions in Herbology tomorrow that she would have to answer. 

Her breath became less forced as she ascended the last few flights of stairs. The footsteps were long gone and she was safe from prying eyes. That is, until she got to the end of the staircase and met an icy blue stare. She froze.

”What are you doing here?” He asked sharply, frowning slightly. His facial features were sharply angled and his hair was a mess of brown locks, and at first she didn’t recognize him at all. Scanning his Slytherin robes, she suddenly understood who he had to be.

”You’re Timothy Lawrence, aren’t you?” She said with an even tone in her voice. He narrowed his eyes. Maybe that had been the wrong question to ask, she realised - too late. She’d heard that he could get violent, and he was two years ahead of her… Who knew if she could defend herself if that was true? She had hoped to annoy him, to make him uncomfortable so that he would leave her alone, and hadn’t really thought about any other consequences.

”Who’s asking?” He asked instead, cool as ice. She swallowed, and searched frantically for a good response, when her eyes fell on the bottle he was partially hiding behind his arm. Bingo, she thought.

”Your new drinking partner for the night. Is that firewhiskey?” She asked with mock suspicion, prompting him to sloppily try to cover it, and Lucy’s wand was already drawn when he accidentally knocked the bottle to the side.

”Arresto momentum!” She exclaimed, and the Slytherin grabbed the slowed down bottle. A few drops fell on the floor, but most of the firewhiskey was salvaged. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, but nodded in thanks and took a swig of the flask. She sat down to lean on the wall opposite from him, now fairly certain he accepted her being there. After retrieving a bottle from her bag, she followed the boy’s example and had a sip.

”I really don’t recognize you. You’re not in my year, right? Please tell me you’re not a third year or something”, he said after a while. ”I wouldn’t want to drink with a kid, although I know you’re not seventeen yet”, he clarified. She raised her brows back at him. 

”Are you?” She challenged, not really sure if he was in his sixth or seventh year. ”And no, I’m 15. But you could’ve met me up here at 13 as well”, she continued carelessly, and when she realised she was being too honest she smirked, to indicate that it was a joke. Which it wasn’t. But he didn’t need to know that.

He laughed anyway. ”Okay, well I was about 15 when I started coming here, so I can’t judge, can I?” He joked, or at least he tried to, but a voice in the back of Lucy’s head told her that was partly true as well. ”Call me Tim, by the way. Are you in Luna’s year, then?” The mention of Luna threw her off. He wasn’t saying Looney, although he if anyone probably knew what being an outsider was like, so it probably made sense. Still off-balance, she quickly responded.

”I kno-” She could tell he had caught it when his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. ”Yeah, I mean… I don’t know her that well, but she seems to care for many”, she said, trying to save herself from the slip up. ”Oh, and I’m Lucy.”

”Nice to meet you, Lucy”, he said as his features relaxed. ”And yeah, I suppose she does. I used to talk to her sometimes, but it hasn’t been a lot since…” His voice trailed off, but Lucy’s curiosity was peaked.

”Since she befriended Potter?” He nodded. “I know what you mean. Even though we weren’t exactly friends, she used to bug me about watching out for wrackspurts and to talk about how I feel, but I usually brushed her off. Now I feel a bit bad that I did”, she admitted. Tim leaned forward a little, resting his head on his arm.

”I’m sure she has a lot on her plate now. Do you want to talk about it?” He had certainly sobered up since almost spilling out an entire bottle of firewhiskey. She suddenly felt self-conscious. She shouldn’t have told him that much.

“I’m not sure I have the right to, I mean I don’t know you that well but you seem to have a lot of things to deal with as well and-“ She was sharply cut off.

“And ALL my problems are public domain here, it seems, so I’d appreciate a more level playing field every once in a while”, he growled, with more redness spread across his face than what he already had from drinking, and having sat up so straight she thought he was about to bounce up on his feet and storm out any second. She held up her hands in capitulation, waiting for him to relax a bit again. 

“Okay, sure, I’m sorry, I’ve heard of you, alright? But my problems are really just stupid things, like worrying over my grades, and knowing what you go through it didn’t seem fair to complain about it. But yes, I’m failing a class or two. It isn’t even Christmas yet, I’ll bounce back before my O.W.L.s. Now that we’re done with that, how are you doing?” Her speech was slightly slurred at this point, but at least she got her point across. She noted that he hadn’t touched his own poison of choice in a while, but she took a few more sips. He went from looking painfully unsure of whether to answer, to reassured. Perhaps it felt safe to speak to a drunk fifth year who couldn’t really talk about this for fear of detention.

“I’ve actually been quite alright for a long time, now. It wasn’t until the other night when there was this Slytherin party, or gathering or whatever, that was supposed to be about in-house pride.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, no one told me that I wouldn’t be welcome until I was stood in the doorway.” 

Lucy’s eyes widened. “They beat you up?” He laughed a little, all the while she tried to find any sign of abuse on him.

“No, no, relax. No one’s tried that in years, well except for a few first years trying to establish some kind of dominance over their peers, but they soon learned that me being a mudblood didn’t mean that I was defenseless after so many years at Hogwarts.”, he let out a small laugh, and she joined him briefly, although alarmed by his use of a slur that was used to put people like him down. People that were just witches and wizards like anyone else. “No, they just had a ward set up so that muggleborns couldn’t enter the common room that evening. I went back up to the dorm and just heard the party going on downstairs. I don’t drink every time something happens, it just sucks to be an outsider sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Only when I’ve felt normal for long enough that I’ve forgotten that I am”, he said, and reached for his bottle again.

“There must have been other muggleborns in Slytherin. Surely they must be ambitious too?” Lucy thought out loud.

“Of course there was. But the hat told me in my first year that he didn’t put any muggleborn through it that he didn’t think could take it, and the frequency of those were so low that I’d likely be the only one in the entire house - which is exactly what happened, by the way. I had to convince it. I really wanted to show the Wizarding world what I was made of”, he said with a crooked smile. “I was a fool”, he concluded with another swig of whiskey.

“No, just hopeful. Although I recognize feeling like a fool all too well”, she said, muttering the last part. He lifted one eyebrow.

“Why would you feel like a fool?” Tim asked. She rolled her eyes.

“Have you ever heard of a daft Ravenclaw? Because it really sucks to be surrounded by smart people and fail classes. And I won’t feel better coming back to Ravenclaw tower, with my luck I’ll probably lock myself out trying to solve a riddle while drunk”, she deadpanned, but it only lasted a second before they both laughed. It was the way you laugh when you both know how messed up the world is, but you can’t stop because it’s so hilariously stupid.

”I don’t believe you’re daft at all. I believe you’re just stressed, for some reason. But I have a feeling you can pass your classes, and if you want, I could help”, he said after the laughter died down. He studied her with such intensity that even the slightly drunk Lucy felt a bit self-conscious. She tried to play it off.

”Thanks, but I’ll be fine. But if you ever need to talk about pureblood supremacists, or just annoying Slytherins, you should know I’m all ears. Or if you just need to get out sometime!”

“Liar.” He didn’t waste his time. “And yeah no, they have a lot of better things to do than bug me these days, so thanks but I don’t need that kind of assistance”, he added.

“You’re a liar too. A bad one”, she said, and giggled. 

“You’re drunk”, he muttered and leaned back towards the wall.

“No!” She laughed even harder now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was slightly annoyed.

“Because we’re both liars. So if none of us are right, then am I drunk or not?” She grinned.

“Perhaps neither”, he said with a small smile. He peered outside and his face fell. “It’s late though. We should head back to our dorms. Will you get yourself back alrigh-“ Lucy had started to fall slowly to one side as if to lay down. “Never mind”, he muttered, but was clearly amused.

Lucy didn’t quite remember how she got back to her dorm that night, but she was fairly certain she hadn’t answered the riddle, and she had a vague memory of arguing with the eagle at the door for some reason. All she really thought of the morning after was nursing her headache before breakfast.


	2. That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim begrudgingly accepts Lucy’s way of adding herself into his life, but he doesn’t approve of her methods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic literally no one asked for is baaack! This time, we get to see how Tim handles confrontation. Spoiler: not great.
> 
> Also, the song title this chapter is named after is a Panic! At The Disco-song.

Tim had gone back to the astronomy tower a few times since that night, but he hadn’t found Lucy there again - sometimes he had run into lovestruck couples however, which is what made him stop going eventually. He decided the same night he met her that he couldn’t put her in the line of fire, in case the Slytherins would find her to be fair game as well, so he ignored her attempts to seek out his gaze in the great hall. She was apparently not as easily discouraged as he was.

With two weekends left before Christmas break, he was ambushed on his way out of the library by his new Ravenclaw acquaintance, who blocked his way out. Seeing Lucy this close and in a lit up room, he noticed the cognac tone in her brown eyes, and the thin nose was high in the air as she tried to make herself taller than the Slytherin. Tried being the keyword.

“What?” He asked, trying to sound bored but almost ruining it with smiling.

“You’ve been ignoring me, Lawrence”, she accused, crossing her arms.

“It’s not that, I just-“ Madame Pince was suddenly there to shush them, so he grabbed her arm and walked her out while she stared daggers in protest. 

“-I’ve just been busy”, he concluded. He wasn’t really looking at Lucy, but frantically searching for where they could talk. There was bound to be Slytherins around any corner. 

“We’ve already established the whole liar-situation. And I guess I can tell why now, I’m embarrassing, aren’t I?” She started out harsh but her tone softened as she spoke. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, I get it. It was just a stupid drunken conversation. But will you at least promise to keep my secret?” He was only listening with half an ear when they suddenly passed an entire group of Slytherin sixth years, spearheaded by the Malfoy kid that looked like a ghost this year. He didn’t seem to have it in him to mock Tim anymore, but he raised his eyebrow at Lucy when they passed. Shit, so much for keeping her out of it. Well then, screw it.

“Look I actually thought about what you said, and, you’re right”, Tim said, looking down at her. She raised an eyebrow. 

”About the liar-thing or the embarrassment thing?” She tilted her head to the side and her brown bangs fell in front of her eyes. They were tossed back with a head motion that looked like an old habit to her, considering she seemingly paid no attention to her hair at all while speaking.

“About the I-need-to-get-out-more thing”, he said and flashed a smile. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“I said that?” She sounded rather confused, and so he attempted to jog her memory.

“Yeah, and that you were daft for a Ravenclaw - so that last bit is obviously utter bollocks”, he said with a wink. Lucy’s eyes widened and her hand came up to her forehead.

“Oh god I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry, some parts were a bit fuzzy afterwards. I don’t even know how I got back into the common room that night, much less my dorm”, she confessed while studying the floor, which had apparently become very interesting all of a sudden. He chuckled.

”Well, you were quite mad when the eagle wouldn’t accept ’I declare the answer is bullshit regardless’ as a legitimate answer to the riddle, and I didn’t really get it either, but luckily we got some help”, he explained. Her eyes darted up and met his.

“Oh, is THAT why Luna tried to bug me to drink water the next morning? I was quite harsh in telling her to leave me alone, but I was just hungover and grumpy”, she said and both sounded and looked not just a little regretful.

“I’m sure she didn’t take it that way, since she knew and all”, he assured her. She stood in silence for a moment and fiddled with her blue and bronze tie while looking past him, obviously embarrassed. Then her eyes lit up and she looked back at him.

“But hey, I forgot what we were actually talking about - you need to socialize!” She smirked. He gulped involuntarily, which only made the Ravenclaw girl smile even wider. ”I know just the party!”

”You think I get invited to parties?” He deadpanned. She giggled. 

“Well no, but I am and I could bring a plus one!” She declared. He looked concerned.

”I know I was the one that said I needed to get out somewhere, but do you think a party is the best idea? What about running into the death eater-fanclub?” He said, fidgeting a little.

”Relax, it’s a Hufflepuff party. They’re mostly cool people, so I’m sure it will be fine”, she made a gesture asking him to calm down.

“Hufflepuffs aren’t all saints you know. Do you know them well?” He interrogated, clearly not convinced.

“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re friends or anything, but I’ve talked a little to the guy throwing it and he seems… Chill”, she concluded, perhaps spending a bit too much time thinking of a word to describe her Hufflepuff acquaintance. 

Tim opened his mouth to protest the uncertainty hanging over her claims, but she shushed him Madame Pince-style before he got the chance to speak. “This right here is why you don’t go anywhere, I can tell. Trust me, no one will even notice you there, so just come with me on Saturday and try, okay?” Her cognac eyes were looking up at him in such an earnest way that only an absolute monster could tell her no. 

So he told her no.

And she did all in her power to make him regret it, showing up around every corner the following week with a new argument as to why he should go. They included, but were not limited to: Hufflepuffs are literally the friendliest people, Slytherins were unlikely to hang out with them, if they didn’t like him they would likely at the same time also just be afraid to piss off a Slytherin (which he couldn’t for the life of him understand why it was supposed to be an argument FOR him going, but she insisted that it was at least a start), and that alcohol would help both him and them to socialize. He politely declined anyway.

Finally, on Friday, she seemed to have given up. She had her back toward the Slytherin table at breakfast, she didn’t bug him in the hallways and she did not wait for him outside of any more classes. A part of him was disappointed that she wasn’t, but he thought it was just as well. If she wouldn’t let him put the bar lower than a party, then maybe they weren’t very compatible friends after all. 

Making his way down to the dungeons, he was both very tired after a long week and a little gloomy. “Mudblood”, he mumbled in the general direction of the stone wall, not even twitching slightly while speaking the slur used against people such as himself. The opening revealed the common room, with the leather couches he never sat in for very long. He fell asleep in one once during his third year and the others played some pranks on him, including a head-shaving spell. It took a year for it to grow back to the length it had been. 

For now however, it was empty and he sank down into an armchair and sighed. He was done with his homework, largely as a result of hiding from Lucy in the library close to Pince, so that conversation was completely out of the question. It had worked for a while until she started passing him notes. He smiled at the thought. She tried so hard that she probably could’ve been a Hufflepuff.

”I need you to consider one last thing.”

His head spun around and there she was. He listened briefly for footsteps from the dorms but heard none, yet he was very much on edge. 

“How’d you get in here?” He half whispered, half screamed. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well you told me I wasn’t a daft Ravenclaw, and obviously I’m at least adept enough to figure out a password. Which, by the way, must be a horrible reminder to you, and I’m frankly surprised it’s even allowed. Didn’t professor Snape even protest?”

”I don’t know, but you seriously shouldn’t be here, people don’t just visit our common room, it’s strongly discouraged-“

“I don’t care, but you’re gonna hear me out, Lawrence.” She took a deep breath. ”I want you to come to the party, and the last reason I could think of is… Because I’m going and I want you there. Frankly, I don’t know why I accepted the invitation in the first place, but I promised I’d go. So please, join me and make it more bearable?” She was fiddling with her tie again, and the floor was once again being studied in-depth. 

”I guess”, he finally said, after a long pause. She beamed up at him, but he could only muster a weak half-smile. Part of him knew he would accept eventually, but that didn’t mean he had no worries. 

”So how do you know the hosts?”

”Oh, just… From around”, she coughed. ”But anyway, meet at around 9 and we’ll go there together?”

”Fine. But if it sucks, we’re leaving”, he huffed. Lucy smiled conspiratorially at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand setup is done! Well, for their characters, at least. Stay tuned for the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor characters, they’ll make an appearance soon!


	3. Swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are introduced. Puff is a bit of a git, Gryffindor struggles with their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to “Swear” by You Me At Six. So the chapter title is noticeably shorter than the previous two, but with the line “I swear I don’t really want to talk it out”, there literally couldn’t be a more fitting song.

The party was in full swing when Sophie arrived. The other 6th year Gryffindor girls had already arrived together, Parvati engrossed in conversation with her sister and some of her Ravenclaw friends, while Lavender and her boyfriend were also… Enjoying each other's company, with Lavender sat on Ron’s lap in an armchair. Because of the latter, Hermione wasn’t there, but she usually “had other things to worry about”, and rarely showed up to parties anyway. She didn’t seem like a mean person, but Sophie wasn’t great at initiating conversation, either not knowing what to say or how to continue. When she didn’t start one, she looked bored and she’d been told she seemed unapproachable before. By someone she certainly didn’t speak to anymore.

In her purple dress, she didn’t per se match the yellow and black common room, but knowing her colour theory, she knew they complemented each other. She kept to the side, silently sipping a glass of awful fruit punch while taking in the room. She hadn’t seen the Hufflepuff common room before, and it had been dressed up for the occasion, with glittery trinkets and banners, an image she held in her memory, intending to draw it once she got back. Which would have been very soon after that trail of thought, had it not been interrupted by a voice she knew all too well.

“Roper! You actually came!” A giddy-looking Philip Avery approached her from the scene in front of her, corrupting her image of a beautiful room with memories she’d rather forget. With his hair done with gel to look purposefully messy and cool, and a swaggering walk, his giddiness only showed on his facial features; otherwise, he was still the perfect, chill party host that high fived his ”bros” left and right.

“I did”, she said, stating the obvious. She was uncomfortable, and not drunk enough for this. Not nearly drunk enough for any of his bullshit. He, however, took no notice of her awkwardness (and if he did, he ignored it).

“I knew you’d take me up on it eventually, I mean, my parties are legendary - but it’s such a relief, Soph. You don’t know how horrible it felt to think I might have actually done you harm - I mean, it’s not like you would’ve said anything, right?!” He nudged her in the rib with his elbow, as if he had stated the most hilarious inside joke and not touched on how she had dealt with the actual end of their friendship. But she held her tongue and got out a nervous laugh which she immediately regretted, seeing as Philip grinned bigger and took it as reassurance.

Before she managed to get a single word out about how he was an unequivocal scumbag, a reprehensible liar or an incorrigible snob, he got waved over by some of his other Hufflepuff pals. Handshakes and highfives, and he was swallowed up by a crowd of yellow and black, that he himself matched on the outside. But not on the inside. Loyal? Like hell he is, Sophie thought to herself. 

But then again, what kind of Gryffindor would just stand there and accept his behaviour, let him talk to make himself feel better, after all the promises he broke? She wasn’t very brave for her house, so in a way, she thought that maybe they were both examples of the sorting hat’s ability, or inability, to sort all students to the correct houses. 

But bravery could be achieved. Either through sacrifice, trial and error, or in liquid form. She approached the table that held the fruit punch again, and re-filled her glass. And re-filled it again. And again. When the level of liquid got too low for anyone to easily scoop up punch, she giggled when she realized it started to fill itself back up. At this point, her vision was blurry, and looking around the room, she no longer saw the perfectly orchestrated picture that she had intended to paint, but laughing people all around her. She frowned. She wanted to be happy too, so she approached Parvati and her friends and made her way into the circle. The laughing died down and they looked at her, unsure of what to say. Her eyes tried to focus on Parvati, who she realized was also staring at her, and she started to speak - slurrier and less coherent than she had ever been when she was nervous or stuttering.

“Don’t stop for me, go on”, she said - more or less. The tension left the group of girls and some giggles ensued, as they realized that the ever so shy Sophie Roper was absolutely shit-faced. But Sophie didn’t mind the laughing, in fact, she laughed too - with a couple of hiccups here and there, as if for good measure.

“Say Parvati three times fast!”, one of the girls said, and she tried - and butchered the name, leading to even more laughing. The game continued like that and then the conversations moved forward, but Sophie felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

That would all come to a screeching halt a few moments later however, when she heard some alarm across the room. There was shouting and banging noises, and the still quite drunk Sophie was just about to turn back to her newfound friends when she heard someone behind her ask, almost whispering but not quite: “Is Philip Avery beating up that muggleborn?”

Those words were enough to make her blood boil. She never turned back around, instead she started marching forward - more or less in a straight line, but she made it past the groups of people that simply stared forward somehow. The scene by the door had obviously escalated just before with the infamous muggleborn Slytherin holding his nose with his hand, blood visible between his fingers. A Ravenclaw girl she didn’t recognize (but that was wearing her house crest as a brooch on her blouse) was tugging at his arm, whispering something and frantically trying to get him to move with her towards the door, but he ignored her.

And in front of him, with his back to her, her gel-using, highfiving, partyfixing ex-best friend stood, seemingly stuck with his fist still closed at his side. There was a slight bruising on his knuckles, that for now didn’t have much colour, but it would likely show tomorrow. She was frozen for a moment too, halted about a meter right behind them, and it was as if no one dared so much as breathe as to not disturb the scene in front of them. 

Then the muggleborn, in one swift movement, let go of his face and grabbed Philip by the collar and tried to punch him, but Philip wasn’t alone. One of his friends tackled the Slytherin to the side and another socked him square in the jaw, leading the Ravenclaw girl to scream, and claw at a vial in her pocket. She didn’t move to help her friend - or boyfriend, Sophie didn’t know which - which struck Sophie as odd, she didn’t seem frozen by fear or unable to do anything, but it was like she stopped herself from moving forward. She reached out with her hand, but let it fall to her side. Then she ran off.

By that time, Philip had recovered and moved forward menacingly toward the Slytherin, now firmly held in place by his friends. His vapid friends, Sophie thought angrily, but they weren’t the biggest morons in this situation. The guy couldn’t even fight back, and Philip got his wand out of his pocket.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember to protect yourself with a wand, being a-“ he expertly avoided the slur, but without the audience he surely would have said it, “- non-pure or half-blooded wizard, and all”, he drawled, trying to get a reaction out of the Slytherin - Lawrence, Sophie suddenly remembered. He wasn’t known to lash out too often, but fighting back was another thing - and knowing Philip, Sophie had a good idea which of those two things had transpired before she could see them. Lawrence eyes looked almost lazily at him, but there was a glimpse of daring in them.

“And of course you would hide behind other people, well especially now that dear papa is in Azkaban - But maybe he taught you all the unforgivables now, to use on people like me. Go on, show them what a great little death eater wannabe you are!” Lawrence spit on him to emphasize. Not that he needed to, because standing this close, Sophie could see Philip physically shaking as he raised his wand.

“Expelliarmus!”

The silent room turned into one full of whispers and murmurs. Philip Avery, now wandless, frantically turned around, still enraged, looking for the culprit. Sophie hadn’t even realized that she had unpocketed her wand, much less cast a spell, until she locked eyes with the pure-blooded Hufflepuff. 

“Now why the hell would you do that?!” He bellowed, the murmurs in the room once again falling silent. He probably expected her to mumble. To trip on her words, to apologize or to run away. She did none of those things, but instead, she took a step forward, having sobered up enough to speak clearly, but not enough to control her tongue or feel nervous like she usually did.

“You-“ She pointed into his chest, “Absolutely-“, she pointed harder, “Disgusting-”, the point became a light punch, ”IDIOT!”, she finished with a proper punch into his chest. Not that it sent him flying or anything - it probably hardly affected him at all - but his mouth fell open and for the first time since she met him, he was at a loss for words and she knew what she wanted to say. His lackeys looked unsure what to do, and the Slytherin looked intrigued.

“Putting me down for all those years, being petty, taking out your shame on me and being angry when I didn’t go with you, that’s some fucked up shit-“ The gasps were back, but people quieted down to listen to what was probably gonna be the biggest piece of gossip for weeks. “-but acting like a total prick is one thing, and being a bloody bully is another! You were better than this Philip, in fact I used to think that you still were - but this just goes to show that you were always, and will always be, a git and a pathetic excuse for a wizard!”, she practically screamed the last bit in his face. He stared at her, in shock. His brown eyes, the warm deceitful colour that fooled others into thinking he in fact held warmth, only looked cold to her. The moment ran on and she almost had time to become self-conscious as she was quickly sobering up, until he spoke.

“But why did you abandon me?” 

The voice was small, cracked and unsure. It was a sound she would’ve never imagined could’ve come from him, and she wouldn’t have believed it unless he saw it. But she was still furious.

“That’s what you got from that? That’s ALL you got from that? We’re not okay and I don’t want us to become okay, I just want you to let that guy go and at least try to pretend to be the cool guy everyone thinks you are.” She flung out her arms in exasperation and didn’t avert her disgusted gaze, and somehow, surprising herself more than anyone else in the room, it worked. Philip didn’t even have to speak for his friends to let go of Lawrence, who promptly got himself out of there. Philip still said nothing, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. She only let herself enjoy her righteous triumph for moment before she turned on her heel and left, and behind her followed many of the party guests - although they were keeping their distance.

She, for once, didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit, that was intense. But now all of our four protagonists (if they could all be called that, *cough* surely Avery can’t be *cough*) are on the scene and ready to party! Or literally any other activity than parties, maybe, as this one didn’t go that well...


	4. Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hufflepuff perspective of the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is an MCR-song. Sounds noble, although it’s not so much about how Avery acted - but we all know that by now! What, why, how - that’s what this chapter is about.

The night had progressed the way all his parties did - people were drunk, people had fun, and he made sure they all remembered who they had to thank for it. For the past seven years he had built himself quite the partying reputation, and had become very well acquainted with most of his fellow students. He knew their faces, their names - and their blood status.

While the little Malfoy pipsqueak - who he belittled even in his mind since he was a year older and felt cheated - obviously got preferential treatment no matter what he did, Philip (being in Hufflepuff) was at a disadvantage and had to work to become useful in his father’s, and the other death eaters’, cause. His contact network was becoming quite instrumental in the recruitment and brain-washing of halfbloods, and in that way he was gaining respect from the Dark Lord. Purebloods didn’t require much convincing to join him, but to build an army, he needed to convince others as well. While not all of them understood what they were getting into, he knew he could deliver soldiers once the time came.

His father had let him know he was proud of him - a rare sentiment - just before the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. But then, Potter and his gang had ripped him away from him. Of course, he kept himself in the good graces of a few lower-ranking DA-members, playing a double game as he usually was. To them, he all but damned his father’s actions. And he kept in contact like a friend.

But he had no friends, not really. Not anymore.

He watched his favourite person in the world help herself to the punch - to a lot of it, but he actually thought he could see her stand a little bit taller and stop trying to make herself look shorter with every glass. The purple dress made her stand out, showing off her long legs and her blonde hair fell to her shoulders and was for once not pleated, making her look wilder, more… Gryffindor. He felt a twinge of guilt and looked away, not really willing to feel or process what they had gone through. The forced conversation they had already had that night was enough, and he still mentally berated himself for feeling the need to address her after finally showing up to one of his parties after all these years. Sophie Roper was off limits, he reminded himself. She abandoned him, she tricked him and she wasn’t worthy of him. And yet, a small voice in the back of his head chimed in to remind him, she was also too important to be dragged into his mess anyway. 

Suddenly, one of his friends - well, one of his many acquaintances - pointed out a girl to him, at which he smirked and set off to talk to her.

She was a fifth year Ravenclaw - Lucy Ashmore, someone had reminded him as he walked off. She stood in a corner looking a bit nervous, shaking slightly. To others she just looked a bit uncomfortable, which some people are at parties, especially when they’re lonely, not drunk yet, or both - but he knew what was up. 

“Looking for me?” He said melodically, and laughed when she jumped a little. She hadn’t seen him, obviously. Her cheeks flushed; she was cute, although not in any extraordinary way, Philip thought. He preferred blondes.

“N-no. May-be?” The pauses in her speech weren’t long enough to be stutters, and most people wouldn’t have noticed. Again, Philip being privy to why she was shaking was key to his reading of the situation. He laughed and touched her shoulder casually.

“Well well, no need to be nervous, Lucy. I got your letter”, he playfully mocked. He took a small vial out of his pocket. “This is all I have on me, but we can meet at another time and discuss the rest”, he assured her - as he had already told at least two other people that night with vials of the same size - as he gave her the vial and she quickly pocketed it, before looking up at him to ask questions. They all did.

“What do you want for it?” She was still shaking, but had collected herself slightly better. He laughed, snaking the arm on her shoulder behind her neck to her other shoulder.

“Consider that one a gift, since it’s so little”, he winked at her. His flirting wasn’t for his own gain entirely, especially since he preferred taller girls. But the more girls that fancied him, the more he could get to follow him when the time came. Especially those already in need of the things he could provide. Inducing a crush here or there, or even receiving... Appreciation from those girls, was all helpful to the cause. 

That’s when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, ready to be greeted with yet another high five, when he was yanked away from the girl and roughly let go. Staring at him was another old acquaintance, dressed up but still wearing his Slytherin tie.

Of course, Philip had been one to assert himself by the cost of Timothy Lawrence’s dignity. In first year, after being sorted into Hufflepuff, putting down the only mudblood Slytherin in years was his way of justifying his claims that the sorting hat went all out of wack that year. No one seemed to remember that about Philip, since he had soon begun to repair his reputation and build his network according to his father’s specifications. He had been so angry when Philip told him about the bullying of the mudblood, which Philip himself had been so proud of - but he as a Hufflepuff should be mainstreaming and winning people over, the older Avery had told him. Which made him feel stupid and worthless, mentally blaming all of it on Timothy Lawrence. 

“Uh oh, the black sheep of Slytherin has a crush, does he now?” Philip coaxed, loudly, to gather an audience. He wanted to draw blood, but he’d settle for humiliation.

“None of your damn business, Avery”, Lawrence answered evenly, not breaking his ever-present mask of stoicism. But when Philip sensed a weakness, he went all in. He threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Lawrence. From the way Lucy here responded, I thought she was quite clearly very available”, he said with overplayed remorse in his facial expression. Timothy looked sharply at Lucy, who looked down without saying anything. It was not as if she would tell anyone what they had been talking about, and certainly not with an audience. Philip couldn’t help but smirk slightly. Whatever the deal was between them officially, he could tell that Lawrence cared for the girl.

“I mean, then again - she could do a lot better than a- well, than you”, he said, garnering some laughs. ”Right? Good banter, good banter!” He said to some of his pals, exchanging fist bumps. He knew how to play hurtful comments off for a crowd.

“Oh, because the guy with his precious daddy in Azkaban is so much more appealing. Get a grip, Avery”, Lawrence retorted. 

“I did get a grip”, he said and nodded towards Lucy, and started to laugh, along with many of the people around him. 

That’s the moment when Timothy Lawrence reached up to punch him in the eye - which Philip in one swift movement blocked, and retaliated by getting a direct hit on the Slytherin’s nose, which broke with a satisfying crack. The rest of the events had Philip acting through blind rage, until he was disarmed. He was about to curse whoever this was to oblivion as soon as he retrieved his wand, but then he saw that it was her.

The rest didn’t go by in rage, but in shock. The helpless words he heard himself say felt far away, on a different planet. She absolutely destroyed him. Publicly. At his own party. 

When she walked away, he immediately began damage control, talking about how he had never been so brutally attacked for no reason before (but declining healing potions or spells, as that would make it apparent that his worst injury came from inflicting a much uglier wound on his opponent), and how much jealous ex-girlfriends sucked. For all any of them knew, that’s all she was. But he had a hard time ignoring his guilt, that was getting worse every time he told that lie. He would have to tell it until he himself believed it, Philip concluded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... How is he a Hufflepuff again, you may ask? Well, I thought about how the very noble Hufflepuff-traits could be twisted into something bad, and here’s what I gathered - loyalty and hard work is great, but you can be loyal to and work hard for all the wrong people. Believing, truly, that you are doing the right thing for the right people is all it takes to believe that you are kind and/or merciful. I think any person can be manipulative, despite Hogwarts house, and so this is after 7 years of work and a life of conditioning from Philip’s death eater father.
> 
> If anyone is curious, this story for me is mostly a way to try to finish what I’ve started for once. It may not be perfect (it is, after all, not my first language), but I’m damn determined to at least finish it!


End file.
